Investigating whether the secret guards are old acquaintances
Li Tai: "Oh? I'd like to hear more about it."
“Firstly, he is wary.” Zhiwei said calmly, “He is not only wary of the Wan family, but also of any powerful clan that might become too strong and repeat the mistakes of the previous dynasty where the maternal relatives held power.”
“The Cheng family is in decline, and he can still control it. If he were to appoint another noblewoman as empress, and if the new empress had a prince, the court and the harem would be intertwined, wouldn’t that be asking for trouble? He would rather leave the empress’s position vacant and let the power of the concubines replace the empress’s power, allowing Consort Wan and even other concubines to share power and check each other, than give the maternal relatives any possibility of overstepping their bounds.”
"And the second one?" Li Tai pressed.
“Secondly,” Zhiwei’s lips curled into an almost mocking smile, “the Crown Prince is young and needs time to grow. For at least the next three years, His Majesty will want to provide the Crown Prince with a stable environment rather than introducing new variables.”
"Are you so sure His Majesty is so patient with the Crown Prince?" Li Tai frowned.
“It’s not His Majesty’s feelings for the Crown Prince,” Zhiwei paused, “it’s His Majesty’s feelings for the Empress.” Zhiwei thought that with Cheng Yuzhi’s death, Zhu Liji’s attention to Zhu Sheng would be far beyond what was expected for a period of time. This was simply because of something that even he himself might not admit: his lingering feelings for the late Empress.
Zhi smiled.
Zhu Liji was a man of far more contradictions than he appeared, and of far greater persistence than others.
He could be cold and harsh to his first wife, and he could turn around and embrace a new woman, but in a corner of his heart, the woman who had been his childhood sweetheart and spent the years of his life in the Eastern Palace with him was ultimately different.
This "difference" can only ferment into a belated sense of sorrow after it has been lost.
It's only natural to show some favoritism to one's only bloodline left by one's first wife, as long as the child isn't completely hopeless.
As she pondered this, Zhiwei felt a pang of bitterness that even she found repulsive.
Zhu Liji could still have feelings for Cheng Yuzhi, even if he realized it too late, but towards others who also plotted for him and did things for him, Zhu Liji was full of calculations and had no pity.
The emperor's heart is boundless, but are some people destined to be despised and schemed against from the moment they meet?
Zhiwei clenched her teeth involuntarily. A fleeting look of anger crossed her face, but it quickly vanished. As she continued speaking, a sudden, sharp downward pull came from her lower abdomen, accompanied by a dull, cramping pain. She could feel the dampness on the chair beneath her, and an ominous premonition gripped her instantly.
The room was quiet. Li Tai was still deep in thought when Zhiwei forced herself to stand up.
Excuse me...
As soon as Zhiwei took a step, she noticed a dark red stain on the stool. Her heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively stepped back, the stool legs scraping against the ground with a screeching sound.
Her heart skipped a beat, and she looked up somewhat awkwardly, only to meet the gaze coming from behind the shadow mask.
The shadow casually stepped to the side, blocking Li Tai's view. Then, with a deft movement, it hooked the stained stool under the tablecloth, the motion so quick it seemed like an unintentional adjustment.
Zhiwei witnessed everything, her throat tightened, she whispered her thanks, and hurriedly turned and left.
Inside the clean room, Zhiwei confirmed her suspicions. Blood was trickling down her legs, its color dark, and it contained large, unfamiliar clots of blood.
When the letter arrived, Zhiwei breathed a sigh of relief.
After Zhu Liji punished her with thirty strokes of the cane during his inspection of Jiangnan, Zhiwei's health was compromised. She was not fully recovered before she hurriedly set off again. At first, she did not notice anything unusual, but later she realized that her menstrual cycle had completely become irregular.
The menstrual flow is sometimes heavy and sometimes light, and the color is becoming increasingly dark. Sometimes it occurs twice a month and is continuous; other times it does not come for several months, and the abdomen feels like it is being stabbed.
Zhiwei clutched her lower abdomen, the pain growing more intense with each stroke, as if it were tearing her internal organs apart.
But more than the pain, the arrival of the blood made her heart, which had been hanging in suspense, sink heavily.
This means everything is still within the expected trajectory.
After that chaotic night with Zhu Liji, she secretly took a contraceptive potion, but she was always uneasy, always afraid that something might go wrong. Now that she had seen blood, she could finally feel completely at ease.
While feeling relieved, the humiliating memories of that night resurfaced.
Even though her soul came from another world and she had a more open-minded view of chastity, and was not depressed, being forcibly possessed like that was still an indelible wound for her.
Zhu Liji's eyes were cold, and his movements were devoid of any pity, only displaying a brutal venting of anger, as if she were nothing more than a tool to be used to vent his anger or punish others.
And then there's the implicit contrast in his subsequent care for Cheng Yuzhi—
The empress's "nobility" and the palace maids' "baseness".
Even now, Zhiwei still feels uncomfortable thinking about it.
After the pain subsided, Zhiwei managed to compose herself and, supporting herself against the wall, slowly walked back to her original spot, her face pale. There, she saw her shadow waiting quietly outside the door.
"My lord has urgent business and must take his leave first," Shadow's hoarse voice sounded softly. "He instructed his subordinates to escort the young lady back."
Zhiwei was indeed weak at the moment, so she nodded and said, "Thank you for your trouble."
——
The snow on the streets had not yet melted, and the cold was biting.
Zhiwei walked side by side with Yingzi, wearing Yingzi's black outer robe, a dark and inconspicuous cotton robe, but exceptionally warm.
Shadow slowed her pace, moving almost in sync with her rhythm. Only the sharp pain in her lower abdomen intensified with each passing moment, and cold sweat soaked her inner shirt. Zhiwei's lips lost their color, and she tried her best to suppress her trembling breath, but still did not want to fall behind by even half a step.
After walking less than half a street, Zhiwei felt dizzy and unsteady on her feet. She stumbled and fell softly to the side.
Before she could even touch the expected cold ground, Shadow reacted swiftly, reaching out to firmly support her waist and, with a slight effort, hoisting her onto his back.
The two were very close; Shadow's back was broad, and his steps were steady. Clinging to his back, Zhiwei was able to observe him more closely and clearly amidst the swaying.
The night was quiet, and snow fell from the eaves.
Zhiwei's hand rested on Shadow's neck. No one spoke, but Zhiwei didn't feel awkward. She unintentionally stroked the lines of Shadow's shoulders and back, her gaze falling directly into the depths of his hairline.
The faint scar that I had glimpsed when Shadow applied the medicine to her earlier was now much clearer up close. It was an old wound that had healed well, but the mark was still there.
A vague sense of familiarity washed over him again, and an almost impossible, absurd idea flashed into Zhiwei's mind like lightning.
Zhiwei was startled by this thought, and her heart suddenly began to pound wildly.
She reached out her finger almost unconsciously and touched the scar very lightly.
The shadow's body jolted violently, its steps faltered for a moment, and its breath seemed to catch in its throat.
“This scar…” Zhiwei began, her voice weak and low, yet cautious, “It looks quite old. Was it from when you were protecting your master?”
The shadow didn't turn around, but simply started walking again and mumbled a "hmm".
"How long have you been following your master?" Zhiwei's heart tightened, and she continued to probe.
The shadow probably didn't hear carefully and didn't reply.
Zhiwei persisted: "Have you met Wang Miaoxiao, the one Li Tai mentioned? He disguised himself as a bandit to rob and kill me back then, and later he also harmed Mingyu..."
The shadow remained silent.
Zhiwei, unwilling to give up, continued talking to herself.
"To be honest, the reason I'm willing to help Li Tai is simply because I also hate Wang Miaoxiao. No, not hate, but despise! I hate that he killed Ming Yu, Shao Zhao, and Sun Wei. I hate that he's still alive and well, and that he can still hold a high position as if nothing happened!"
"Did you know that a murderer has now married a princess of a country and is about to have a child..."
As Zhiwei spoke, she became more and more anxious, as if she wanted to find an outlet for her pent-up emotions. Finally, she uttered the words that had been hidden in her heart all along.
Zhiwei pressed her face against Yingzi's shoulder, her expression unreadable: "But sometimes I think, how many people in this palace are truly cannibals than just Wang Miaoxiao? The one sitting at the highest position, tacitly approving and indulging him, might just be the mastermind behind everything."
Almost instantly, the muscles in his back tensed up. The shadow remained silent, but Zhiwei could feel his disordered breathing.
Zhiwei became increasingly agitated; that absurd conjecture grew wildly like weeds, almost bursting out of her throat.
“Shadow!” Zhiwei blurted out, but quickly lowered her voice, “Sometimes I feel that you look a lot like someone. Do you know me, or do I know you?”
"Are you...?"
The name hidden deep in her heart was about to be uttered, and Zhiwei's heart was in her throat. Her eyes were blurred with mist, and she suddenly felt extremely angry, which caused her to cough repeatedly. She gasped for breath, wanting to speak.
The shadow suddenly stopped.
Before Zhiwei could react, they carefully put her down and helped her stand up.
Then, he turned to the side, mask facing the ground, seemingly extremely embarrassed, and forced out a sentence in his hoarse voice:
"Miss, please forgive me... I... I really need to pee, I need to go relieve myself!"
...
After saying that, without waiting for Zhiwei's reaction, he quickly turned around and almost hastily turned into a dark alley next to him.
The turmoil of excitement, suspicion, and anger in her heart was instantly choked up by these extremely inappropriate words. She choked and momentarily forgot her stomach pain, leaving only a look of astonishment and confusion on her face.
She leaned against the cold tree trunk, staring blankly in the direction he had disappeared.
The long street was deathly silent on a snowy night, except for the occasional cawing of crows.
Her thoughts were in turmoil. Zhiwei waited in place. The cold wind swept the remaining snow across her skirt, clearly chilling her, but she didn't feel it. In her heart, it was as if a lively sparrow was chirping, both joyful and indescribably melancholy.
If the shadow really is Zhu Mingyu, why doesn't he return to the palace? Why is he willing to live in anonymity as Li Tai's secret guard? And why... doesn't he come looking for her?
Looking down and rubbing her fingertips, Zhiwei looked at her outstretched hands. The calluses and old wounds that couldn't be washed away, along with the gray powder that couldn't be washed off between her fingers, were particularly clear in the hazy snow light.
Zhiwei suddenly chuckled softly, a chilling self-mockery in her voice. Even if Zhu Mingyu returned, what difference would it make? These hands, this person, these circumstances—they could never be the same again.
But if Zhu Mingyu were really still alive, would her dead heart start beating again, and would her anger and resentment be extinguished?
My emotions were tormented by a constant struggle between ice and fire.
Footsteps sounded again, approaching from afar, steady and clear.
Zhiwei suddenly looked up, her gaze locked on the thick darkness at the alley entrance, and she even held her breath.
The next moment, that figure stepped out, shattering the years of separation and bitterness in Zhiwei's heart.
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